


Love Until We Bleed

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dreamers, Fast Cars, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Praise Kink, Street Racing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith likes fast cars, street racing, Shiro, oh – and James Grififn





	Love Until We Bleed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arahir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arahir/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, [JoJo](http://arahir.tumblr.com/)! Sorry this is horribly late! I know this is probably not at all what you envisioned for your gift and, believe me, it was not what I originally intended. I started thinking about James and Keith street racing and sort of lost my fucking mind. 
> 
> Before I was Voltron trash, I was The Raven Cycle trash, and for those of you who have not read TRC all you need to know is 
> 
> 1\. Street racing  
> 2\. Fast cars  
> 3\. Gay boys  
> 4\. Dreamers
> 
> Dreamers can pull objects out of their dreams/head and make them real. 
> 
> If anyone is coming here and has read TRC, yes, I was (am) Rovinsky trash (: Jeith is all Rovinsky could have been

There was a box full of leather bracelets sitting on his passenger seat. A note written in a familiar scrawl read, _Just in case you lose some_.

Keith picked up the box and sifted through the leather cord, varied in size but also eerily identical to the exact set he wore on each forearm and wrist. Every twist, imperfection, and detail was included.

Keith set the box back down and rolled up his car windows. Apparently, he should have rolled them up while running into the market and simultaneously keeping an eye out for one greasy weasel in an ugly white McLaren.  
  
Pidge finally left the market, too, and came up to hop into the passenger’s seat. She frowned at the box and note, picking it up to hold in curious hands while she sat down. “What the fuck?” she asked. “Thought you said you made these yourself?”

Keith threw the car into reverse, his eyes falling on a flash of white in his rearview. “I do,” he replied darkly and spun the car out of the parking space to catch up to Griffin.

The white McLaren sat at the next light, thumping with trashy hip-hop, and the underside glowing orange. Keith hated James’ car and by hate, he meant he wanted to make love to it while flipping James off.

Keith hated James Griffin too and by hate, he meant he found James oddly endearing.

Keith eased up next to James’ car and rolled down his window. James looked over at him with a smirk like sharpened knives. Kinkade sat in James’ passenger’s seat, completely ignoring in Keith of playing around on his phone. The rumor was they were fucking but Keith didn’t care enough to find out or maybe he cared too much and that explained the sneer in his lip.

James wore white sunglasses even though it was nearing ten at night. He was such an asshole.

“Hey, Kogane,” James called. “Nice car, your daddy buy it for you?”

Keith raised his middle finger while watching the red light. Muscle memory.

He had thirty seconds to prepare. James revved the McLaren’s engine.

“Keith, _no_ ,” Pidge hissed. “You know what Shiro said about racing.”

Twenty seconds.

Keith drew in a breath, his fingers playing along the stick shift.

“I’m going to _cream_ you, Kogane,” James taunted.

Keith rolled his eyes. “You wish. I can outdrive you any day.”

James laughed. “Me and three hundred horses have to disagree with you.”

The light turned green.

The McLaren took off like a shot and, momentarily, Keith felt genuinely stunned. The last time they had raced James’ car had not moved that fast. Seeing James’ taillights snapped him into action and he kicked his own car into racing after the white atrocity.

“Keith!” Pidge gasped, gripping the door tightly. “You know what Shiro said–.”

“Do you always do what Shiro says?” Keith snapped back. He could already picture Shiro’s scowl and lecture but the only thing he cared about was leaving James to lick his wounds.

Racing left Keith’s heart drumming in his chest and the best part about racing James was the bastard always fucked up the final gear shift. A wild grin split Keith’s face when the McLaren lost momentum just as he knew it would. Keith shifted into the final gear and flew around James with a triumphant laugh. He saw James flip him off on the way but the gesture only turned Keith into a giggling mess.

Once James’ ugly car was no longer in sight, Keith slowed down and headed for the state route. The dark roads led away from their small town out into the countryside where they all lived on Shiro’s property.

“Shiro said you were already at two strikes,” Pidge whispered. “One more and you were out.”

Keith’s jaw set when he recalled Shiro’s fury. Out of everyone Keith knew, Shiro always gave him multiple chances. _I will_ never _give up on you_ , Shiro had told him once upon a time ago. Back in high school when Keith had nowhere to go after the loss of his father, Shiro had invited Keith to live with him.

The deal had been Keith would attend Garrison University, clean up his act, and stop illegally street racing. He had done (mostly) two out of the three. He’d enrolled in GU and cleaned up his act – no more fighting, partying, or consuming illegal substances. The only vice he had now was smoking but Shiro smoked too, so he knew Shiro wouldn’t bitch. The only bit of Shiro’s conditions he truly struggled with was the last one.

No more street racing.

Racing was in his blood and his father had left him an ‘85 Stingray – the only thing his father had left him.

Oh, and five million dollars.

The money was being used to pay for school and to give monthly rent to Shiro. Occasionally, Keith used the money to buy jeans that cost more than his rent but Keith had never been one to spend frivolously.

“How’s he going to know?” Keith retorted as the driveway appeared in sight.

“He’ll know.”

“He _won’t_.” The insistence was more for his own nerves than Pidge’s. The idea of no longer being welcome in Shiro’s home left him empty but he’d never pictured Shiro actually following through.

The driveway back to the old house was long and pines stood on either side like sentries, guarding the house from prying eyes. The Castle of LIons – lovingly coined by Shiro – nestled up against more trees, the circular driveway allowing Keith to pull his car around to park under the garage carport. Shiro’s sleek, black Lotus parked outside of the garage, shiny and brilliant. Keith eased out of his car to almost touch Shiro’s but he didn’t want to smudge the sheen. He must have washed it today.

The first large item he’d ever dreamed.

He’d claimed he’d bought the car as a thank you but Shiro knew what Keith could do – dreaming an entire working car had taken him an entire summer, and a lot of reading on what a Lotus could do and how they were built. Then, he’d met Rollo and had been allowed to drive Rollo’s Lotus. Afterward, Keith had finally dreamt a working car.

The only part missing from Shiro’s was a working gas tank but the car still functioned just fine without one – plus, Shiro now saved on gas which was an added bonus. He could still recall the look on Shiro’s face when Keith had presented Shiro with his own Lotus; a car Shiro had coveted for years but could never justify no matter the number of zeros behind the numbers in his bank account.

Shiro was the humblest man Keith knew and he respected and loved Shiro fiercely. Which was why walking into the house behind PIdge immediately brought on his anxiety.

“We’re home!” Pidge called and Keith flinched. They were late which would arouse suspicion.

Shiro appeared from down the hall, approaching the two of them with a raised eyebrow. He wore sweatpants and a white tank top, his snow-white hair a rumpled mess. Keith admired with a broken heart how good Shiro looked when comfortable in his own home. No longer fit for a working prosthetic arm, he still exudes power and presence. Post-Adam, Shiro had only grown stronger in himself and Keith admired him for moving on.

Keith admired everything about Shiro.

Especially the way his shirt outlined every defined inch of his–

“Keith,” Shiro said sharply, drawing his gaze back upward. “What took you two so long?”

Pidge had already squirreled her way upstairs, leaving Keith alone with Shiro, Easier alone, he supposed, because he had a better chance of lying successfully without Pidge’s commentary.

“Nothing,” Keith replied. “There was a line at the market.”

“This late at night?” Shiro asked.

Keith sighed and headed down the hall toward the kitchen where Shiro’s laptop sat on the table open. Of course, Shiro was a workaholic and would still be working this late at night.

“Keith, were you racing again?”

“ _No_.”

“Are you lying?”

Keith tore the fridge open and pretended to contemplate its contents. Lying to Shiro was impossible and not because he was a bad liar. He was an excellent liar but he owed Shiro more than anyone knew. Whenever Keith saw Shiro’s missing arm, he was reminded by _how_ much.

“Keith.”

“I…” Keith trailed off and felt his final brain cells fight with each other over what to do. Finally, the words seemed to fall out of his mouth faster than he could convince them to stop. “I raced Griffin, that’s why we were late.”

 

Truth - 1

Keith - 0

 

Shiro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Keith,” he said so wearily Keith felt it in his bones. “We’ve _discussed_ this. I said no more racing but you _continue_ to defy me.”

Keith slammed the fridge shut hard enough to make the appliance and surrounding cupboards rattle. Shiro stared in surprise and went quiet. Tension filled the room thick enough to rob oxygen from Keith’s lungs.

“I am _not_ your ward,” he growled. “And you are not my keeper. I pay you to live here. I’m twenty-one years old and you have to _stop_ fucking treating me like I’m still a seventeen year old kid! I’m not a child Shiro and you can’t chain me here!”

Shiro remained quiet with his face neutral. Keith envied Shiro’s ability to keep his emotions a secret while he wore his heart on his sleeve at all times.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” Shiro said slowly. “I’m strict for a reason, Keith. I worry – I worry one day Sendak will return and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Keith turned his eyes to where Shiro’s right arm used to be and flinched at the memory. Shiro always meant well and only had his safety in mind. He hated how he couldn’t simply be grateful.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” he said quietly. “I know I shouldn't have but he’s always goading me.”

The box of bracelets was still in his car with their mocking note.

“You have to learn not to engage,” Shiro replied evenly.

They both went quiet with a mountain of tension between them. Keith finally spoke first. “Am I out?”

“Excuse me?”

“This was my final strike.” He braced himself for Shiro to cut the cord and release him into the wild. He scrambled to build a fortress ten miles high around his heart so the rejection wouldn’t hurt so badly. Keith knew the effort was futile.

“No,” Shiro said quietly after a moment. “Keith, I would never ask you to leave unless it was for your safety.”

Keith regarded Shiro where he stood in his pajamas and seeming so tired. Dark circles under Shiro’s stormy eyes reminded him of the eggplants growing in the garden. Fine lines along his temples reminded Keith of how business aged Shiro cruelly. Despite all of this, Keith still found him devastatingly handsome.

When Keith had no one else, he had Shiro. Sometimes, Shiro seemed too good to be true.

“Remember when we first met?” Keith asked.

Shiro snorted out a chuckle. “Oh, yeah. Brash, young kid steals my car while I recruit for G.U. I remember very well.”

“Why did you spring me out of juvie?”

“Because I saw a fire in you and I wasn’t ready to let society snuff it out, not if I could help rekindle it and keep it going.”

Keith blushed and ducked his head. “Did you know what I was back then?”

“No,” Shiro admitted quietly. “I hadn’t seen a dreamer since Kuron.” Shiro paused and fought back buried demons. “I didn’t know until Sendak’s cronies started to hang around.”

Keith shuddered at the mention of Sendak’s name. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I don’t know. Last I heard he was dead but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. So, _please_ be careful, Keith. That’s all I ask.” Shiro stepped so close Keith could smell his shampoo and hints of cologne.

He wanted to bottle Shiro’s scent to keep forever.

Maybe he would.

Keith looked up at Shiro shyly. “Did I dream you?” he whispered. Sometimes, Keith feared Shiro was only a dream object and not wholly real.

“No.”

“Would you know if I had?”

Shiro frowned and paused on the question. “I… don’t know– but I have memories before I met you, so you couldn’t have dreamt me.”

“What if I gave you those, too–.”

“Keith. I’m real.”

“God, I hope so,” Keith sighed.

“If I weren’t real, could I do _this_?” Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith to tickle him mercilessly.

“Shiro!” Keith cried out, laughing and trying to escape but even one armed, Shiro was strong. Shiro laughed too, Keith felt the rumble against his back and the tickling turned into a one armed hug. Shiro pressed up against him and the intimate contact made Keith blush.

If any of the others came downstairs he would never hear the end of it.

“Uh– I forgot something in my car,” Keith said and slowly pulled away. Cock-blocking himself just in case he was reading too much in Shiro’s touches. He refused to ruin their friendship over sex.

“Oh. Sure. I should probably try to sleep,” Shiro admitted and smiled. The smile was sleepy and immediately caused Keith’s teeth to rot.

“Good night, Shiro,” he said. Shiro left the kitchen and Keith went back out to his car to grab the bracelets and note.

James Griffin was a master forger – if you needed a fake ID, for a price, he would make one so real they were almost perfect. James Griffin was also a brown-nosing little shit but after last summer he’d picked up an edge. Pidge jokingly claimed James’ new attitude was to impress _him_ but Keith had shrugged the implications off.

Except, now, he had an entire box of bracelets identical copies of his own.

Keith carried the box up to his room to study the bracelets under a desk lamp. They were so similar but under better lighting, Keith noted the copies were more brown than black and not genuine leather cord. They weren’t exact copies but they were pretty damn close.

A chill wandered down Keith’s spine and he plucked his phone out to send a text.

 

← _So, you’re a stalker now Jimmy?_

→ _Fuck you it’s James_

_→ and no wtf_

_← The bracelets are p. close where did you get them?_

_→ What, you don’t like them?_

_← Where did they come from? I make them myself so clearly you’re being creepy_

 

James didn’t reply at first and Keith picked up a copy again. A picture of James painstakingly forging each bracelet one by one filled Keith’s mind but there were hundreds here all in a tangled mess.

Nothing made sense.

James continued to ghost, so Keith ended up going to bed. As he fell asleep, he envisioned Shiro’s scent trapped in a crystal vial, there for him to smell forever. By morning, he woke and uncurled his fingers to find the same vial in his palm. James had also texted him back.

 

_← I know what you are_

 

* * *

 

_Meet me at the usual place, usual time._

The text marked as read but Keith still wasn’t sure if James would come. Either way, Keith leaned back against the hood of his car waiting. The abandoned warehouse parking lot was used often by kids to smoke, drink, and party.

James and Keith used it to race.

The long strip acted as a good racing track but Keith hadn’t asked James out to the lot to race. Not tonight. He wanted to know what James knew and he wanted to know if Pidge was at least partially right if not all of the way right. Three minutes past midnight, James’ ghost of a car pulled into the parking lot to rumble next to Keith’s. He revved the engine but Keith wasn’t impressed.

He allowed the silence to draw James from his car, pushing his white shades to the top of his head to look Keith over as he did. Keith ran over James’ clothes, white t-shirt, and jeans, and wondered if he’d brought his dog Kinkade with him.

“You alone?” Keith asked.

James nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, leaning back against the passenger side door of his car to fold his arms across his chest. When James didn’t have his pack of friends with him, he tended to act like the James Keith knew. Less of a dick and more of a people pleaser.

“I got your text,” Keith said. “What does this mean. You know what I am?”

James smirked and rolled his eyes. “Are you honestly that stupid, Kogane?”

“Just fucking tell me, you prick,” Keith growled and stepped into James’ space. They were the same height but Keith stretched up to be taller. James was still leaned back so it made the gesture easier.

“Shirogane has a nice Lotus,” James commented which threw Keith for a loop. “Where’d he get it?”

Keith frowned, stammering a bit. Shiro told him to never trust anyone with the knowledge of his dreaming powers. Dreamers were classified as weapons – and everyone wanted a piece of them. “I bought it for him,” he lied.

“No,” James said with a shake of his head. “Car without a gas tank? You pulled it out of your head, didn’t you?”

Either James was a dreamer or he knew dreamers.

 _Or_ , Keith thought with dread. _James is a hunter._

“How did you know that?” Keith whispered.

James stepped forward which forced Keith to take a step back. “I’ll show you. Follow me.”

Worry still tickled the back of Keith’s mind but he also felt a kinship with James he could never quite explain. Maybe this was why they were always so drawn toward one another. They were both on the same side of the coin. James slid back into his car and pulled out of the parking lot, waiting in the street for Keith to follow or not.

Keith swallowed back his nerves and decided to follow.

They drove away and out further into the country than even Keith lived. The area grew darker and darker as the city lights dissipated and then James finally slowed down when he came to a closed off gate. Keith waited behind him while he climbed out of his car to unlock the padlock and then they were driving back through a winding gravel road.

Trees surrounded them on either side but eventually cleared out to reveal a field and a racetrack. Keith parked his car beside James’ and slowly eased out, his jaw hitting the ground faster than James’ car went from 0-60.

The field was full of white and orange McLarens.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. Not all of them were perfect – some of them were hardly cars at all, just strangely assembled parts but the further Keith looked out, the more he realized they changed and varied until Keith turned his eyes back to the one sitting beside him.

“You dream these,” Keith whispered, slowly stepping forward to touch one with his fingertips. “There are thousands out there.” He spun around to stare at James with wild eyes. “That’s _insane_.”

James shrugged one shoulder. “The longer you do it, the easier it becomes,” he replied.

“That’s why your car seemed faster the other day. It was an entirely different car.”

James grinned wide. “Bingo. You’re catching on, Kogane. How long did it take you to dream up Shirogane’s car?

“Three months,” Keith admitted quietly. He felt like a novice standing before a master. James clearly had more dreaming skill than he could ever muster.

“Not bad,” James said. “The more you dream, the more objects you take, the easier it becomes. You just have to know when to keep pushing and when to take a break.”

“You dreamt my bracelets,” Keith said slowly.

James nodded once. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Keith turned away to collect his thoughts. Of course, James liked him. In the back of his mind, Keith had always known that to be true but his heart rested back at the Castle with Shiro. “It can’t be us,” he replied quietly. “It’s never going to be us.”

“We can fuck,” James replied casually.

Keith slowly turned back around. “Just sex. No strings. No feelings.”

James held out his hand like they were making a deal but Keith shook it anyway even if he felt ridiculous. “My car or yours?”

Keith stepped into James’ space and grabbed his hair and face to kiss him hard. He pressed his tongue against James’ lower lip and received no resistance, only James melting against him like butter. Easing James onto his back on the top of his car was easy and Keith used the new position to shove his hands up James’ shirt and tweak his nipples, while his tongue traced illicit patterns against James’ teeth and gums.

James moaned when Keith teased his chest, his thighs spreading eagerly, already straining his overly tight jeans. Keith palmed the arousal and tugged his jeans down until James was bare-assed on the hood of his car, dripping already on his stomach with anticipation.

“You’re going to come so fast,” Keith teased against James’ throat, leaving a large hickey there possessively. “Like you’re a fucking teenager.”

“Fuck you,” James gasped but didn’t refute Keith’s statement either.

Keith smirked and admired James lying on his car, thighs spread, shirt shoved up under his chin, and cock bobbing against his stomach. He was pretty, especially without his ugly sunglasses. Keith massaged James’ thighs and unzipped his own jeans, trading more sloppy kisses.

“I bet you got lube somewhere in this dream mess, don’t you?” Keith asked, biting James’ earlobe teasingly.

James gasped and nodded. “Glove compartment.”

Keith didn’t hesitate, slinging around the car to find the bottle and bringing it back to spread on his fingers and James’ ass. The way James whimpered and moaned, his hand wrapped around himself but not stroking, probably staving off his orgasm, made Keith ache for more. He was so beautiful.

“You have no right to be this hot,” Keith said, voice gruff with lust.

“Just fuck me already, Kogane,” James moaned, half way between begging and demanding.

Keith preferred begging.

“How do you ask?”

“ _Please_ ,” James whined.

“That’s better.” Keith pressed a finger inside James once he was sufficiently wet, working him fast and watching him wriggle and writhe desperately. Keith used his knee to press one of James’ thighs open to hold him still and added a second finger for the stretch. Usually, he took his time with his partners, wanting them to be fully pleasured and loosened but this was just sex.

There were no feelings involved.

Just quick, nasty, dirty fucking.

“ _Fuck_ ,” James groaned, arching, still holding onto himself tightly.

“Not yet,” Keith said with a smirk but he was lubing himself up and realizing too late he didn’t have a condom. “I don’t have a rubber.”

“I don’t _care_ ,” James whined, reaching down to grab Keith’s hips to pull him close. “Please.”

“No feelings,” he reminded James who only nodded in response and Keith guided himself inside. The fit was tight, even with lube and Keith fingering but James didn’t wince or tell him to stop. Keith rolled his hips once he was seated, pressing in as deep as he possibly could, keeping their bodies dangerously close.

“Fuck me,” James breathed out, his eyes eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. When Keith looked close enough, he could see the lightest of freckles spattering James’ nose and cheekbones like whispers of galaxies.

Keith dragged his tongue over James’ jaw and into his mouth and slammed his hips forward hard enough to shake the car. He swallowed James’ sounds, stealing his breath, and pulling his hair until James’ tears sparkled amongst the stars in his skin.

No feelings but James was enrapturing.

James finished first in a gasp of air like Keith were strangling him and a wet splash against Keith’s stomach. Keith didn’t slow down, pumping his hips faster until he, too, finished with a low groan. He left another hickey on James’ neck as a gift to remember him by.

“Wow,” Keith whispered once they both settled into labored breathing and trembling.

“Y–yeah,” James gasped. “I don’t know if I can walk now.”

“As long as you can drive,” Keith teased and slowly pushed himself upright to pull out and admire the mess he’d made within James. A smirk twitched his lips upward.

“I feel split open, you asshole,” James muttered, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “Fuck.”

“You’re fine,” Keith said and slapped James’ thigh.

“Why can’t it be us?” James asked quietly.

Keith looked to him in surprise, studying the raw question in James’ eyes. He liked James but his heart was tangled up with Shiro. “You know why.”

James’ starry blue eyes lost all light when he looked away, like a burning star crashing to earth. “No feelings,” he said coldly.

“Right,” Keith agreed on the zip up. “No feelings.”

 

* * *

 

Keith and James raced each other five more times that week. The loser had to do what the winner wanted and James was – quite literally – a sore loser. They fucked bent over cars, crammed in back seats, and in James’ heated pool. Keith realized how much he liked James’ company because beyond prying eyes he was actually a decent person.

The night was hot with August heat, cicadas singing in the distance, while Keith sat naked in the shallows of James’ pool. In his hand, he admired a swirling stone reminiscent of space wrapped in a leather cord. James had dreamt it for him. If he squinted hard enough, Keith swore he could see shooting stars move across the surface.

Every time they fucked, Keith reminded James there were no feelings but Keith also knew his days were consumed with thoughts of James’ freckled skin. In sunlight, the freckles became prominent and Keith had always been a stargazer.

“Do you not like it?” James asked.

Keith looked up from admiring the stone to where James lounged on an inflatable pool lounger. “I do like it.”

“But?”

“No buts.” Keith slipped the necklace over his head.

“Keith.”

“Hm?”

“Are you ever going to put me out of my misery and ask Shirogane out?” James stared up at the starry sky while floating, one of his hands dangling in the water.

Keith sighed. “Shiro doesn’t want to go out with me.”

“Then put me out of my misery and ask _me_ out.”

“Bold of you to think I’d go out with you,” Keith said to be funny but as soon as he said the words out loud, he realized his mistake and how insensitive he sounded. “James–.”

James glared at him. “Go to hell, Keith. Go home and pine for a guy who doesn’t want you – actually, no, I’m better than you. I hope he _does_ like you because I wouldn’t wish this even on you.”

He wanted to apologize, he _should_ apologize, but instead, Keith climbed out of the pool, pulled on his jeans and left. Asking Shiro out should have happened by now but the more time he spent with James, the more he liked him. Over the past week, Keith had dreamt of James and every morning woke with embarrassing evidence in sticky boxers and a pair of white sunglasses in his hands.

Maybe he would ask James out.

He touched the necklace resting on his chest beneath his shirt. He dreamt Shiro the world but only received lectures in return. If he dreamt James anything, Keith was sure he’d drop dead from shock. Torn two different ways and he didn’t know what to do.

Shiro was still awake when Keith came quietly through the back door. He sat at the island, his hands in his hair while he stared at his laptop.

“Shiro?”

Shiro started and turned around. “Oh, Keith, you scared me.”

“Sorry… Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes – just work stuff.”

Keith sighed and walked over to start making a glass of warm milk and honey for Shiro. A nighttime concoction Shiro liked before bed. “You need a vacation.”

“I don’t have time for a vacation.”

“Pretty sure you’re the CFO and can do whatever you want,” Keith pointed out before passing a glass over. He pictured Shiro taking a vacation somewhere warm and Keith joining. They could slather on sunscreen and hit the beach. James was there.

James was there?

“You okay?” Shiro chuckled. “You have this funny look on your face.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… Just… picturing us on vacation together but then James was there, too. Weird.” Keith ran a hand over his hair to push the image aside.

“James Griffin?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro took a drink of his milk, giving himself a dairy mustache. “Thought you hated that guy?”

Hate was a strong word but Keith thought on all the times he’d coated the backs of his knuckles with James’ blood and vice versa. Then he thought on the past week and as many times as they’d trash talked each other, James responded eagerly to praise in bed. He thought on the way James’ kisses tasted like more and his hands tapped Morse Code on Keith’s heart.

_I want you. I need you. I adore you._

“Keith?”

He thought on the necklace and the personal wondrous galaxy swirling within the stone.

“Keith.”

Keith’s turn to startle. “What?”

“I said, I thought you hated that guy.”

“Uh– y–yeah. I do. I guess.”

Shiro smiled knowingly. “It’s okay if you don’t. You have been absent this week.”

Keith groaned and leaned his elbows on the island so he could hide his reddening face in his hands. “I’ve been spending time with him and I _do_ like him but there’s a problem with that.”

“What?” Shiro asked.

Keith looked at Shiro miserably. “You really don't know? Have I not been obvious enough?”

“What?” Shiro asked again, more confused than earlier.

“I like _you_!” He didn’t mean to yell but Shiro was so dense sometimes.

Shiro’s eyebrows flew up to meet his hairline and it was clear Keith’s feelings for him had not even been a whisper on his mind. “ _Oh_.”

“You had no idea,” Keith said the words tasting of defeat.

“I’m sorry, Keith. I–I had thought about us, I just feared taking advantage…” Shiro stammered while his cheeks turned pink.

“You _haven’t_ . But the problem is I like you _both_ and choosing is impossible.” Keith sighed and let his forehead drop on his arms. He was tired, frustrated, and aching for James’ sunkissed skin against his own.

“Then don’t.”

Well, he hadn’t expected _that_ to come out of Shiro’s mouth so casually. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t pick. As long as James doesn’t mind, I am not opposed to sharing.”

Keith stammered in disbelief. Not only did Shiro want to date _him_ but he was giving permission to keep seeing James. When had this become his life?

“You’re serious?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Shiro smiled softly. “Keith, you’ve been there for me through everything. You were there for me when Adam and I broke up, through the loss of my arm, the pain, nightmares – you’ve seen every side of me and have never flinched or backed down. I would be a fool to pass on this opportunity and I’m not a jealous man.”

Tears made Shiro’s image swim but Keith launched across the island to kiss him desperately. They force made Shiro grunt and their teeth clashed together but Keith didn’t pull back. Not even when Shiro dragged him across the island, almost sending the laptop to the floor, to put Keith on his lap.

Shiro turned on every synapse and switch Keith had until his skin burned from Shiro’s touch. They kissed sloppy and needy, uncaring of the others upstairs. Keith tugged Shiro’s hair and found his pulse to kiss. He could feel the erratic beat of Shiro’s heart and it left him just as thrilled.

When Shiro placed him on the counter and spread his thighs, Keith almost lost all faculties. Then, he remembered James’ hurt.

“Shiro, wait.”

Shiro groaned in frustration but he held still.

“I should speak with James first– God knows, I want this and he knows how I feel about you but–.”

“You’ve been seeing him first, I understand.” Shiro stepped back, his sweat dangerously tented. Keith whined at the sight.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Let me blow you.”

“You just said–.”

“You want me on my knees or not, Shirogane?”

Shiro stared with wide eyes and then tugged his sweats down. Keith’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning before sliding off of the counter to the floor. The hardwood dug into his knees but watching Shiro gasp with one lick was worth every bit of pain.

Shiro tasted of sweat, August nights, and lust. The velvety softness of his skin a pleasant dichotomy to the heft and weight on his tongue. Keith trailed his eyes up Shiro’s body to where his eyelashes fluttered shut and his mouth parted while he gasped.

“Christ,” Shiro swore, his left hand digging into the island countertop. “Your mouth is so good.”

Keith skimmed his lips up and down Shiro’s whole length, proving he had hardly any gag reflex. Watching the surprise brighten the storm of Shiro’s eyes felt like a radiant shock of lightning down his spine. He skimmed back down, nose to Shiro’s pelvis, breathing in the musky scent of arousal. Keith felt his head spin.

“Oh, fuck– _Keith_ ,” Shiro moaned, fingers spasming on the counter. “I’m going to come– oh fuck–.”

Keith eased back so only Shiro’s tip remained in his mouth, working the sensitive area until he almost went cross-eyed. Moans music to his ears, Keith whimpered when Shiro gifted his taste across his tongue.

Twitching to a finish, Shiro slowly pulled free, leaving only a shiny string connecting them. The blush rising on Shiro’s cheeks made his scar stand out harshly on his face. “So,” Shiro panted. “You’ll talk to James soon? Hopefully, I can return the favor.”

Keith laughed and nodded. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Shiro flashed a thumbs up. “Great,” he gasped, chest still heaving. “I need to sit down.”

Bringing large men to their knees gave Keith such joy. “Want me to walk you to bed?” he teased.

Shiro sank down into a chair at the kitchen table, still facing him, and adjusting his pants to tuck away. “Just need a minute. Made my knees weak.”

“Good. It’s what big, _strong_ men like you deserve.” He grinned when Shiro visibly shivered. “Making me horny, Sir, not sure I can say no.”

Shiro groaned and covered his face for a moment. “Don’t say that. You need to talk to James.”

“I’m not dating him,” Keith replied even if he knew Shiro was right.

“Keith, _still_ – I want to be sure… no matter _how_ badly I want otherwise. IF he says yes, I will _more_ than repay you for this. Plus, I don’t want to wake anyone.” Shiro glanced up at the ceiling cautiously and Keith understood.

He knew Shiro was right as usual. He wanted James’ permission and if James denied him, the decision would be extremely difficult. Potentially with lists involved.

“I should go to bed then,” Keith said. “So I don’t just jump you.”

Shiro chuckled. “Good night, Keith. Thank you.”

Well, at least Shiro was polite.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Finding James during the day was not as easy as Keith assumed it would be. His car wasn’t parked in front of his parents’ McMansion and he wasn’t at his usual haunts. Keith almost gave up until he remembered the field filled with dream cars.

Keith followed the main road from town, trying to recall the way but it had been dark last time. Luckily, the road only branched off into driveways, so finding the gate wasn’t difficult. The gate stood open, so Keith drove through and followed the gravel road back until he spotted James lying on the roof of his car.

He pulled off to the side and grabbed the small, black box sitting next to him. James didn’t say anything when Keith walked up to him. The only sounds being the singing of cicadas and birds.

“I have something for you,” Keith said slowly.

James turned his head but with his sunglasses, Keith couldn’t gauge his reaction properly. “What?”

Keith held out the small box and James accepted before slowly pulling the lid off. Inside, nestled in velvet sat a hagstone, leather cord looped through the hole so it could be worn much like Keith’s necklace.

One of James’ perfectly tweezed eyebrows appeared over his shades. “It’s a rock.”

“It’s a hagstone,” Keith said quickly. “They’re used for protection against magick, witches, and… and nightmares.”

When a dreamer had a nightmare, sometimes the results were disastrous. A dreamer could not always control what came with them which was why Keith refused to fall asleep during class or take a nap when anyone was home. Even sleeping at night gave Keith anxiety at times. He was always afraid he would be the reason someone was hurt.

James slowly pulled the stone free and turned it around in his hands. “Did you dream this?”

“Yes,” Keith whispered. “I wanted to dream you something, too.”

“Why?”  
  
“Because… because I like you and I felt guilty last night because I gave Shiro a blowjob,” Keith said quickly, the words flowing out like someone had unleashed a cork. “I’m sorry. I was going to ask you first but then it just happened.”

James took his sunglasses off, a frown all over his face. “Ask me what?”

“I talked to Shiro last night,” Keith said slowly. “He said he didn't mind sharing… With you.”

“Sharing?”

“Me.”

James’ eyebrows both shot up. “Wow. Kinky.”

Keith snorted. “I don’t think he meant a threesome or anything. I mean, unless, that’s what you want, I guess… but… He just meant he was okay with me dating you and him at one time–.”

“Dating? I thought you said no feelings.” James slid down off of the roof of his car so they could stare each other in the eye. “That’s what you kept telling me. No feelings.”

“I know,” Keith whispered. “And I tried that but it’s not working when you’re actually a nice guy. You know, when you’re not being a total dick.”

“So, you want to date me… and Shiro.”

“Yeah.” Keith sighed and leaned back against James’ car, his hands going into his pockets. “Are you okay with that?”

“Keith, I’ll take anything,” James said, placing his hands tentatively on Keith’s waist. “So, is he into threesomes or something?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like I _asked_ . Why, are _you_?” Keith asked, his voice lilting slightly as he mocked James lightly.

James shrugged. “Shiro’s hot. I wouldn’t say _no_.”

“Let me go out with the guy once before you hop on the fucking train, you slut,” Keith teased but he removed his hands from his pockets to hold James’ face in his hands. “Sorry I hurt your feelings last night.”

James looked down, his long eyelashes criminally soft along his cheeks. “I forgive you.”

“So, do you want to go out with me this weekend? We could go on a real date,” Keith suggested quietly. “We could go to the pizza place.”

“Slav’s?”

“Yeah, why not? We both like it.” Keith kept his fingers on James’ face, gently petting his soft skin. He was inhumanly soft and Keith began to wonder if he’d dreamt James, too. Was anyone or anything in his life even real? Was everything a dream?

“Okay,” James said. “But if we’re going to do this fucking threebie thing, I want an equal chance with Shiro. No hogging him. If that's what you’re into, fine, but I want to not be left out.”

Between James and Shiro, Keith wasn’t sure how he was going to make it so he just kissed James softly. “Whatever you want, babe.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You should invite him over,” James said while Keith watched television. “I don’t mind if he comes over and my parents aren’t here for another week, so… We have the place to ourselves.”

Keith glanced at his phone and wondered when this had truly become his life. After James had given him permission to date both of the men he found himself adoring, Shiro had taken him out and made his head spin with the best blowjob in the entire world. The next day, he’d fucked James hard enough to make him cry. Two weeks and four dates later, he now realized the threesome was finally, potentially, about to happen.

“You really want Shiro to come over here?” Keith asked.

“Yeah. I like Shiro, too.” James shrugged and then plopped down beside him on the couch. The ugly mansion _did_ have plenty of room for fucking and since it was so hot outside, they’d probably all end up in the pool. “You told me you’d share.”

“I _know_ ,” Keith spat but he unlocked his phone to send Shiro a text.

 

←   _you busy? If not come over to James’ house for some netflix & chill if u get my drift ;) _

_→ KEITH_

_← James suggested it so he’s into the idea. You want 2 guys all over u or not?_

_→  ...omw_

 

Keith snorted. “He’s coming.”

“Good.” James leaned into him then, placing his head on Keith’s shoulder. “It’s hot.”

“Then get off me, you fucking loser.”

“No.”

Keith smiled and wrapped his arm around James to let him lean against his side so they could cuddle casually. He would be sad when James’ parents returned and classes started a week later. Way less time to fuck and smoke out together. “I was thinking of dreaming something for Shiro,” he whispered.

“What?”

“A new arm,” Keith said slowly. “I’ve tried before but it never works out.”

“Does he know?”

“I haven’t told him. I’m afraid he’ll be mad at me for trying so hard. He doesn’t like it when I dream so often, he’s worried it’ll… draw in hunters.” Keith said the last bit slowly because he wasn’t sure how much James knew. If James were lucky enough to never be bothered by hunters, he hated the idea of ruining his ignorant bliss but he also didn’t want James ever caught off guard and killed.

“Hunters?” James asked.

“Yeah. There are people who hunt dreamers like us. It’s how Shiro lost his arm. He was protecting me and Sendak, he’s the guy who was hunting me down like a fucking dog, cut off his arm…” Keith sighed as he was filled with the memory and how awful he had felt for months afterward. If it weren’t for him, Shiro would still have two arms and potentially be married to Adam with a normal family.

Instead, Shiro’s home became a house for lost dreamers and other wanderers. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were all inhuman in some way and somehow they had all become friends and Shiro’s house was like a mothership for the strange and weird.

“What the _fuck_ ,” James whispered. “I didn’t know that… Are they still around?”

“Probably. We haven’t been bothered for a few years,” Keith said. “But that doesn’t mean much. I try not to dream too much because using the power draws them in. They can feel it, I guess.”

James gulped. “But I dreamt all of those cars and no one ever bugs me,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” Keith mused. “I can’t figure it out. Maybe Shiro would have more input on it. Maybe the hunters are all died out by now. Sendak _was_ one of the last of them and we haven’t heard from him in over a year. None of his cronies sniffing around and no new threats.”

“What do they _want_?”

“They want us dead because we’re dangerous.” Keith slid his fingers into James’ hair to pet and soothe. “Dreamers can be classified as weapons,” he quoted dully as he remembered Sendak’s words.

“Weapons…”

Keith nodded. “Think about what we can do, James. Think about what we can do and then think about how many people would sell their souls to harness that power.”

James went quiet and slid his hand slowly into Keith’s free one. “I never thought of it that way.”

Killing the mood had not been the goal but Keith wondered if there was now a giant hole in the promise of earlier. They both sat quietly until Shiro arrived and James stood to go and let him inside. Keith turned around on the couch to watch James lead Shiro back to the den where they’d been sitting.

“Hey,” Keith greeted with a small smile.

Shiro offered a half smile. “So, Netflix and chill, huh? What does that _actually_ mean because–.”

“It means we want to fuck you,” Keith answered and James blushed as he returned to his spot on the couch.

Shiro’s own cheeks colored. “Oh.”

“Is that what you want?” Keith asked. “Because if not then I guess you can just watch us.”

“What does James want?” Shiro asked, always the gentleman.

“I want to be included,” James admitted quietly. “I don’t know how you guys… I mean, your dynamic–.”

“I like to top,” Keith said, leaning over to kiss James’ neck slowly, his teeth grazing his earlobe. “Just like I do you but I bet he’s going to _love_ owning your ass.”

James’ face turned bright red and he immediately began to lean back into the couch, welcoming Keith to climb on top of him. James was always a good boy.

“Doesn’t he look so good, Shiro?” Keith asked casually, his fingers teasing James’ inner thigh, slipping under his basketball shorts casually. James whimpered in response.

Shiro slowly walked around to the back of the couch, watching both of them while his fingers gripped the cushions tightly. “He is pretty,” Shiro admitted. “Is he shy?”

“Oh, sometimes,” Keith replied and tugged James’ shorts down until he was naked from the waist down. James’ body immediately turned crimson but his arousal grew while being watched. “See? He blushes so easy.”

“I won’t lie,” Shiro whispered. “I’ve fantasized about the two of you once I realized you two were… an item.”

Keith smirked at the revelation. He liked the idea of Shiro jerking off to the two of them, picturing the two of them rubbing all over each other. He wondered how often Shiro touched himself thinking on them. He’d have to ask later.

“Hot,” James gasped while Keith’s hand went to tease and stroke him. “Jesus Christ, Keith.”

“He comes quick, too,” Keith commented, still talking about James as if he weren’t in the room just to make him squirm.

“I believe that,” Shiro said and finally went to sit down on the coffee table across from them. “He’s very pretty. Lithe but he has strong calves and thighs.”

“He runs,” Keith mused, still stroking James languidly for Shiro to watch. “Don’t you, James?”

James nodded and pressed his hips forward into Keith’s palm. “I like to work out,” he whispered shyly.

“Touch him,” Keith offered, reaching to guide Shiro’s hand to James’ smooth thigh. “Isn’t he the softest?”

Shiro’s cheeks colored but he nodded and slowly rubbed James’ inner thigh, his knuckles brushing Keith’s wrist. “Very soft. Does he shave?”

“I think he waxes like a good little rich boy,” Keith teased. “He swims so he has to be smooth.”

James covered his face in his hands at the talk, moaning softly while Keith and Shiro both felt him up. Shiro finally brave enough to reach up and cup his sac, rolling it in his palm while Keith kept making slow, languid strokes.

“Oh, fuck,” James whimpered, his face red when he finally pulled his hands back down, gripping the couch cushions until his knuckles turned white.

“He _loves_ praise,” Keith crooned. “Loves to please.”

“What does he like best?” Shiro asked quietly, his palm still working as slowly as Keith’s hand.

“He likes to be _fucked_ hard. He likes it rough.” Keith let go of James in favor of grabbing his shirt to sit him up forcibly, kissing him hard and mean on the mouth. James moaned and drooled down his chin. “He likes it _mean_.”

Shiro licked his lips and nodded. “I can be mean.”

“Good,” Keith said. He stood up so he could arrange James on the couch, forcing him to face and grip the back of the couch on his knees, ass out and presenting. “Fuck him, Shiro.”

James was already panting in anticipation when Shiro stood up to unzip. “I bet he’s huge,” James whimpered.

“He is,” Keith whispered, sitting beside James on the couch casually to watch.

“He’s not wet enough to take my dick,” Shiro said. “I don’t want to hurt him, no matter how mean he wants it.”

“Such a gentleman,” Keith said. He stood and pushed Shiro back a step before kneeling and pressing his tongue to James’ ass. He heard James immediately moan and Shiro gasped while Keith pressed his tongue inside, spreading James obscenely so Shiro could watch. He tongued James open until he was a sloppy, wet mess and slowly returned to his spot on the couch.

Shiro’s eyebrows were raised and James was shaking with an almost orgasm, his forehead pressed to the back of the couch while his thighs trembled dangerously. Keith smirked and gestured for Shiro to resume. Shiro stepped forward to press inside James with a long groan, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Arousal flooded Keith’s pelvis while he watched Shiro slowly fuck James at first.

“Harder,” Keith commanded. “He likes it mean.”

Shiro grabbed a handful of James’ hair to pull, craning James’ neck back, and fucking him harder and faster with each thrust. James moaned helplessly, drool running down his chin and throat, his face a complete blissful mask of pleasure.

“He’s a good slut,” Shiro growled.

“Yes, he is.” Keith leaned over to kiss James’ smooth hip, his hand wrapping around to resume giving him a quick handjob.

“I’m coming,” James whimpered and spilled immediately afterward.

Shiro didn’t stop.

Keith sat back again, finally shoving his own shorts down to jerk off while he watched. Shiro shoved James hard into the couch, grinding into his ass slow and deep. James screamed with oversensitivity and it was all over for Keith. He gasped and moaned, immediately making a mess over his own palm, while James was shaking with a second orgasm.

Keith knew from experience Shiro could take forever to get off and James was in for overstimulated _hell_.

“How many times did he get off?” Shiro growled viciously.

“Twice,” Keith replied quietly, his own cock spent against his thigh. “You’re going to kill him.”

Shiro slammed three more times, hard, against James before finally going off. James was left a trembling mess, clinging to the couch so he didn’t collapse, and whimpering. As soon as Shiro pulled out, Keith was there to soothe. He pulled James into his arms and let him tremble and shake on top of him, kissing James’ temple and quietly praising him.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” Keith whispered. “I’m so proud of you. Taking Shiro’s fucking monster cock.”

Shiro sank down onto the edge of the couch beside them, his hand petting and rubbing James’ calves. “He is a very good boy.”

“Yes, he is.” Keith kissed James’ forehead and let James come down off of his orgasmic high. “Shiro, can you go to the kitchen and grab us some juice? James likes juice after a rough one.”

“Sure.” Shiro zipped up and bent down to kiss the back of James’ head and then Keith’s forehead. “You’re _both_ good boys.”

Keith blushed immediately but he kept his focus on James and making sure he was alright. “Talk to me, James, are you okay?”

James nodded. His body was slowly calming down. “I’m doing fine. It was…. Wow, fuck, he really knows what he’s fucking doing. And you _top_ him?”

Keith chuckled. “We switch on and off depending on what we're in the mood for.”

“Hot,” James mumbled sleepily. “When did I get so lucky?”

Keith tightened his arms around James warmly. “Funny, I was about to ask the same exact thing.”

Shiro returned with juice for all of them and sat down on the floor next to the couch. “So, can we really watch Netflix now?”

Both Keith and James laughed. “Sure,” Keith said. “Loser.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s… an arm,” Pidge said as if Keith wasn’t completely competent.

“No shit,” he snapped while surveying the metal arm he’d accidentally dreamed Shiro. He doubted it would work but he supposed it worth a shot.

“He’s going to be mad you spent all that energy on this.” Pidge was looking the arm over for technical flaws. “But it does look pretty sound.”

“Do you think it could work?” Keith asked.

“Sure but we’d have to have someone attach it properly,” Pidge pointed out. “You know any awesome surgeons?”

Keith’s shoulders slumped. “No.”

“Then, I’m sorry, it’s just a hump of sheet metal then.” Pidge turned to face him, shoving her glasses back up her nose. “Sorry, Keith.”

Keith lifted the heavy arm and shrugged. “Thanks anyway, Pidge,” he whispered before slowly leaving her den she called a room, trying not to trip over various cords and wires

“Anytime!” she called.

Keith sighed, shutting Pidge’s door, and slowly walking downstairs to leave the arm on the table. He at least wanted Shiro to _see_ it. Speaking of Shiro, Keith noted he and James were both late. They’d gone out to grab ice cream for James’ first real sleepover at the Castle and hadn’t come back yet. Forty-five minutes and Keith was now officially graduated to worrying.

He checked his phone but there were no missed texts or calls. Keith sat down and ran his hands through his hair, shoving it back out of his face. The weather was bad today, awful storms and the roads were thoroughly wet, and Keith was suddenly consumed with the image of Shiro’s car upside down on some back road. He couldn’t control himself anymore and called James’ phone since Shiro was supposed to be driving.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Keith whispered, pacing the kitchen helplessly. “C’mon, asshole, _pick up_.”

The phone call went to voicemail.

“Griffin, fucking _call_ me, I’m worried about you two now.”

Keith hung up and sat down at the kitchen table but couldn’t sit still for long. Soon, he was up washing dishes and scrubbing the stove and counters. The kitchen was sparkling clean and the time told him they had been gone for over an hour. Keith called again.

The phone rang twice before James finally answered. “What?”

“ _Christ_ . Where _are_ you guys?” Keith demanded. “It’s been over an hour. Surely it doesn’t take that look to get ice cream.”

There was a lot of static on James’ end and Keith could hardly hear him. “Bad stor–… Traffic… accid–. Stuck…”

“What?” Keith asked. “James, I can’t hear you. Are you guys alright? Do I need to come out there to get you?”

There was more static and then the line went dead. Keith cursed and stared at his phone angrily as the call dropped. Shiro wouldn’t want him driving in bad conditions but worry continued to chew and gnaw on every nerve he had. He went to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed his coat and keys.

“Pidge! I’m going out to look for Shiro and James!”

There was no reply so Keith rolled his eyes and headed out the front door. The wind was howling and the rain blowing completely sideways. Keith remained on the porch, his eyes widening at how _bad_ the storm had become. No wonder Shiro and James were late. Maybe they’d stayed in the market to wait it out.

“Fuck,” Keith growled as he ran through the rain to climb into his car. He was soaked by the time he was buckled in but he took off down the driveway, tires squealing in the mud and car slipping a little at his hurry but eventually, he hit the pavement. Keith drove out toward town and was almost to the main sector when he saw Shiro’s car off on the side of the road, lights, and hazards on. Keith’s eyes widened as he pulled up to the car and rushed out.

“Shiro!” he called over the howling wind. He rushed up to peer through the tinted windows but from what he could see, the car was empty. “Shiro?!”

Keith yanked the driver’s side door open and frowned at the interior. The passenger’s side door was open and neither Shiro or James were in the car. The ice cream sat melting on the front seat. Panic filled Keith’s heart and he turned around, trying to see through the heavy curtain of rain but everything was a mess.

“Shiro!” he screamed. “James!”

Keith ran to the other side of the car to find any signs of struggle or footprints but there was nothing. It was as if they’d both vanished. He peered around the car, looking beneath and all around all sides until he spotted James’ cell phone, lying on the ground, screen cracked. Keith snatched it up and saw he’d been trying to make an emergency call.

Just one number left.

“James,” he gasped and spun around. His eyes widened when he saw a dark shape approach him in the rain. He slowly drew his gaze upward until he was staring into a glowing red cyber-eye.

“Hello, boy,” Sendak said with a widening grin. “We meet again.”

Keith tightened his grip on James’ cell phone and stared back defiantly. “Sendak.”

Sendak’s grin darkened. “We have some unfinished business, you and I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://pining-sheith.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I don't know if I want to make a second part to this. Maybe.


End file.
